CHAIN WAVES by S. E. Anderson.
I went to Riis Beach and Put my ear to the ocean
I went to Atlantic city and Put my ear to the ocean
I went to Chesapeake Bay and Put my ear to the ocean
I went to the South Sea Islands and put my ear to clapboard walls
I heard chains inside the ocean's roar
I heard bones whitened by salty time ratlin for black-skin
I heard defiant moan-blues in Yoruba, Ibo, Akan, Bantu
I heard transformed memories and tears drop from ashy sea-swept faces
I looked into Jamestown waters and saw
Black-bones beckoning me in rhythm to a Jr. Walker wail
I looked into Savannah waters and saw
Black-husbands hugging sister/mothers crying-cradling their unborn
I looked into the Everglades and Bayou Swamps and saw rusted rifles clenched by death-fists for-telling Brother Nat
I looked through clapboard walls and saw
Gabriel's ghost whispering Revolt in my ears.
In the Sunrise East no winds blew but the sea was restless
In the Sunrise East no clouds passed but the air darkened-anticipating war
In the Sunrise East I looked behind me:
the skyline America with brothers and sisters taking their places
in the Sunrise East no shadow prevailed just mahogany memory-bones salted and searching for ebony-flesh in Revenge and Humanity.
And now our bone-brothers feel it is time that they rise up: we had called for them in our ancestral wails through Bessie, Shine, T-bone, Curtis….
And now our fleshless fighters make the tide rise in spite of the white-moon we had fought with Them and within Them now we fight with Them as Them and Us.
And now Black Bone-tide rise! Crackling against the Carib shores and Bahia-defying the arrogant Luna-lust pulling against the Namibian and Azanian shores.
The flaming chain waves of our unity with all of us cut the invisible shackles of moon-tide flooding the steel-glass caves and canyons of the Snow-people melting the Death-soul into Sodom-death
Roasting their maggot-thoughts clearing the Earth's air for us to breathe and recreate what Coletrane spear-whispered to us-Spiritual Unity what Shango kept chanting to Campos-Liberation for us to breathe and recreate what Allah hummed to Malcolm-Self-Determination for us to breathe and recreate Okra, Nommo and Peace……..
Chain Waves by S.E. Anderson. Broadside Press.
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